TRIBUTES -4

[Dear new reader, this is a sequel to Tributes, Tributes 2 and Tributes 3. For a proper understanding of the plot, it is suggested to read in the same order. This is a work of fiction and all incidents and characters are products of imagination.]

…zooks,sir,flesh and blood

That’s all I am made of!

(Fra Lippo Lippi: Robert Browning)

“Arupathette……Arupathette….!”

(“Sixty eight….Sixty eight…..!”)

Narayanan was counting the number of Para (A measure for paddy, rice etc.) paddy being taken inside the house to be put in to the Pathayam (Granery). Paddy was heaped on the courtyard in front of the house. One laborer filled it in to the Para which was then poured in to a bamboo basket. As the next Para of paddy was poured, Narayanan called out “Arupathompathe……Arupathompathe….!” as if singing a number song. The basket when filled was taken inside by a laborer to be put in to the large wooden granary. This place, infested by small white flies called nelpatta, was also used as a hiding place by children in the summers when their cousin brothers and sisters came home during vacation and played hide and seek.

Labourers Chilamban and Ramakrishnan carried paddy in bamboo baskets to the granary. Dusk had fallen by the time the job was over. Labourers were paid their wages in paddy. They carried it in bundles made of cloth and headed towards their houses walking through the darkening path ways of Ariyanipadam. Crows flew Eastwards above their heads towards the big banyan tree in Madanassery Angadi . Crows in Pulappatta nested on this banyan tree while large bats meditated with their heads down on the huge mango trees in Mokshath temple and Cholayil house.

Narayanan took out his small snuff box held tight to his hip by rolling

it safely in the corner of the cotton half cloth which he wore. He then

pushed a large amount of the tobacco powder into both nostrils and inhaled it deeply. A hot sensation pierced into his brain as a rocket piercing in to the sky. As it exploded like a bomb in his brain, he sneezed violently. He then forcefully cleared the nostrils off its secretions.

“Ithiri enna tharin Ammu Eduthi……” Narayanan asked Grand Mother for oil. He took the oil in the cup of his palm and applied it to his closely cropped, curly, graying hair. He then started towards the Kulam for taking bath. But his legs were taking him beyond the Kulam to the jungle on the east side. There they stopped in front of the bamboo thorn fencing separating the house property from that of the neighbor. Narayanan stood there looking at the neighboring house, not exactly knowing what he expected to see or hear from the house. Darkness had fallen. There was nobody seen outside the house. A weak light from a small wick lamp came out of the house. A large hay stack in front of the cow shed stood like a huge monster in the semidarkness.

Some years ago a middle aged woman and her son lived in this house.Her husband had deserted them and had married another woman in Tamil Nadu. He had two children in his new wife. Now he was not alive. A legal battle was going on between the two wives regarding the right to the property. The children of the house were very much fond of Ammalu Amma. After coming from school, they will go to her house through the opening made in the bamboo fence and will spend their time with her while she worked in the farm or cow shed. They were also invited to the birth day of her son who was much elder than them. On some afternoons she would come to the house and sit for hours talking with grandmother and Parukutty Elayamma.

One early morning Ammalu Amma and her son were seen walking down the main path way of Ariyanippadam west ward. She was carrying a large bundle on her head. Her son also was carrying some bundles. Ammalu Amma was weeping and kept on wiping her eyes with the free hand as she held the bundle with the other. Grand Mother, Parukutty Elayamma and Ponnambalan watched the sight with sullen faces. Ammalu Amma had to leave the house as her husband's second wife and children in Tamil Nadu had won the court case. They were expected to occupy the house shortly.

Finally when they came, a middle aged woman, her adolescent son and daughter, it was a new experience for the neighbors in the village. They talked aloud in Tamil. Some other relatives also had accompanied as they were coming for the first time. The otherwise quite area became noisy all of a sudden with their arrival. The adolescent boy roamed in the field wearing only an under wear, a common sight in Tamil Nadu but a rare sight in our village, and climbed up the trees like Tarzan the ape man. The girl though dark complexioned, was fairly attractive and worked in the farm with enviable smartness.

The new neighbors could not establish the same warm relationship with the house though there was nothing wrong with their behavior.May be the thought of Ammalu Amma and the fate meted out to her created a mental block among all family members. The opening in the fence which connected the two houses during Ammalu Amma’s time slowly disappeared. The pathway way through the jungle, on the East side, which led to their house was soon encroached by the jungle on either side. Only Narayanan frequently went to the fence and watched the girl and boy working in the farm. He chatted with their mother who managed to communicate mixing Tamil and Malayalam in disproportionate quantities.

“Aval midukkathya ….” (She is smart…) Narayanan once remarked about the girl and laughed while he was dining with Ponnambalan, Parukutty Elayamma and Grandmother in the kitchen. That was one of the very rare occasions when Narayanan came out of his shell of solitude and participated in the general talks that took place during dining. Parukutty Elayamma glanced at Grand Mother and Ponnambalan. The "general talks" stopped suddenly. Silence, pregnant with meanings, followed. The next day Parukutty Elayamma threw an open question at the gathering of Grandmother, mother and Ponnambalan even as she pushed a piece of pukayila (Chewing tobacco) in to her mouth, which was already filled with the red solution of betel leaves:

“ Kizhakke velikkal aedu nerom evanentha kariyam enna njan chodikkane…” (I am asking what is his business at the East fence… always…) Question was not taken up by anybody for answering.

How long he stood at the fence, Narayanan does not know. There were no movements in the house other than the shadow dance created by the moving flame of the wick lamp. The noise and laughter of the house had left long back. The girl had fallen in love with a shop keeper and gone to Tamil Nadu after marrying him. The boy also had left in search of employment. Their mother was alone now. With a huge sigh Narayanan started walking back to the Kulam.

By the time he reached the house after taking bath, Grandfather was ready at the large wooden table with his long account book. He was recording the day’s receipts and expenditure in the light of a lantern placed on the table. “ Innu ethara aalanedo ….” He enquired to Narayanan how many laborers were there today. Narayanan started naming them: Chilamban, Ramakrishnan, Raman, his wife Cheeru…

“Why are you again and again calling that Raman? He cannot even stand on his legs, let alone work…” Grandfather asked. Narayanan without replying showed a gesture waiving his palm upward which perhaps meant: let him also live somehow ….

Both Raman and his wife Cheeru were regular workers of the house. Raman was an extremely thin man who, perhaps because of his excessive drinking in the night, could not even walk steadily. He appeared more like a tuberculosis patient. On the other hand, his wife was a fair complexioned fat lady. She had six fingers in each hand. The sixth finger was more like a wart attached to her palm. The only justification to call it a “finger” was the tiny nail it had at the tip.

There were laborers throughout the year for Narayanan to supervise. As rains stopped and winter came, Narayanan went in search of bamboo thorns for fencing work. Ramakrishnan, Chilamban and Chinnan brought large bunches of bamboo thorns. Fencing was a laborious job involving putting thorn after thorn and tying it with a long strand peeled off from the ‘handle’ of Palmyra leaf called Panthakam.

“See how painful it is for us to eat food…” Ramakrishnan showed his palm full of scratches and cuts by bamboo thorns to the children who were spending their time after school with them.

May be he meant not merely the pain the palm will give while eating food but the difficult jobs they had to undertake to make a living as well.

On some mornings children woke up listening to the sound of Palmira leaves falling on the ground. It was rather an invitation for a feast on the sweet fruit jelly of the Palmira palm tree. Chinnan had specialized in climbing up the Palmyra palm tree. In misty winter mornings he climbed up the palm trees to its dizzying heights. As children watched from below, he went up and up embracing the black palm tree......with no branches to step on, no branches to rest on...his thighs scratched by the harsh skin of the black palm. Reaching atop he will cut down its sturdy leaves and black fruits. When he comes down, the palm which looked like a mad man with wild hair earlier would have turned in to a gentle man with close cropped hair. The leaves, after removing their "handle" and drying, will later find their way to the roof top of, may be Ramakrishnan's house and will protect his family from sun and rain for one year....Children of the house also will be invited to Mechil sadya, the feast arranged for workers after thatching the roof...

One afternoon Narayanan woke up from his siesta on the Kulappura parapet with an intense desire to pollute his gullet with snuff. He reached for the small urn like snuff box, made of bison horn, presented to him by a relative in Madras. He usually kept it tight to his hip, rolled on the corner of his Dhoti. But now it was missing. He made a search on the floor and the ground below. It was not there. He now started worrying, not because the aesthetically made little "urn" is missing, but because the golden brown dust it contained will not be readily available to send fire balls in to his brain. He got up and went to the house for inquiring with the children. Sometimes they used to tease him by hiding the snuff box. He pleaded with the children for giving back the snuff box but they had not taken it. Narayanan restlessly rushed out of the house and walked down the pathway of Ariyanipadam. He left the fields behind and climbed up the narrow pathway which leads to Madanassery angadi. As he entered the pathway, the Tamil lady who was standing in front of her house came to chat. But he was in no mood for that. Narayanan felt disheartened as he reached his destination, the small shop of Ramaru Chettiar, for, the shop was already closed. Then he remembered that today is Saturday, the day Chettiar went to Palakkad for taking goods. Now the only ray of hope was Nanu Nair's shop at the village junction. He walked down the mud road briskly. There also bad luck awaited him. Though the shop was open, it did not have stock of the precious dust...

I do not think Narayanan with his limited literacy might have heard the dictum "necessity is the mother of invention". Well, now he was determined to invent something to satiate his lust for sending fire arrows in to the brain.....He came home and rushed to the kitchen. He took a piece of pukayila from the Chellam, the betel leaves box, and heated it in an iron pan. It was crushed on the grinding stone to make a rough powder. Narayanan pushed a liberal pinch of this improvised snuff, rather stuff, in to his nostrils. Though it did not have the exploding effect of the original dust, it did touch the comforting zones of his brain, there by relaxing him.

One morning Beeran mappila came for coating the copper vessels with lead. He was an old man with a grey goatee and always tried to pull it off with his fingers in vein, as he talked. He carried a huge sack wherever he went. He will camp at the courtyard in front of the Padippura (Small house for gate of the house) and will start the day by making a little hearth for burning charcoal, which he carried in a gunny bag. The bottom of the hearth will be connected to a wind blower which looked like a canvas bag. Blowing wind with this blower for kindling the charcoal was the most interesting part of his work as far as the children were concerned. Narayanan and Ponnambalan carried the large vessels to be coated, to the Padippura. Beeran melted lead and some chemicals and poured it on ground. An irregular shaped white piece of the new alloy was formed. This was scratched inside the vessels preheated on his small hearth and wiped with rug. Alas..!The inside of the vessels glistened instantly like silver coating!

Narayanan and Ponnambalan were to carry these large vessels once again to the Padippura after a few days. This time the vessels were placed on large three "breasted" hearths in which large logs of wood were burnt for boiling paddy in them. Kunhukuttan Ammavan supervised the work as laborers brought paddy from the Pathayam and boiled. Boiling had to be precise, lest, the rice will not be good. Boiled paddy, for drying, was spread on the courtyard around the house, made clear two days back by smearing cow dung.

One evening Narayanan walked down the long pathway of Ariyanipadam. Pathway carried the dampness of the first shower of the summer. Darkness had started to fall. Trees and plantations on both banks of the fields had become dark. Small light dots of oil lamps appeared among the darkness from the houses on the banks. Frogs and crickets had started their orchestra. Narayanan turned from the pathway and walked towards a light dot on the left bank. He came to the front of a thatched roof house and called out:

"Rama...Ramo....".

"Aaraad..?" (Who is that..) A woman's voice enquired from inside.

"Idu njana...." (Its me..) replied Narayanan.

The slit of light coming out of the house through the closed doors widened as the door opened and Cheeru came out with a wick lamp in her hand. Narayanan sat on the wooden plank fitted on the half wall of the passage of the house.

“Nale kannu poottan thudanganam…mazha peythille..” (It has rained…. ploughing is to be started tomorrow …)

Cheeru stood leaning on the door frame holding the wick lamp in her hand. She had taken oil bath in the river after the day's work and her black hair spread around her face and fell on her shoulders. Her red blouse blazed in the wick lamp light. A hot wind laden with moisture from the evening shower came up from the fields fluttering the flame of the lamp.....

The first shower of the summer had fallen in the afternoon. Ariyaninpadam which had fissured due to the scorching summer had fully drunk its waters. Though a heavy downpour, it was not enough to quench her thirst. However she was ready for the first scratch of the plough...start of a new season...once again giving birth to life.......sowing, sprouting, yielding, harvesting.....following the endless cycles of nature.

At Molora, Vadakke Puzha, the river on the northern side of the village, encountered stiff resistance from a group of rocks for her free flow. She managed it cleverly by splitting into several tributaries and continued her journey, giggling, embracing each rock. Narayanan laid on a large rock looking at the moon which had come out after the rains. Strains of Keli, drums announcing the Kathakali performance, was coming with the west wind.

Today where is Kathakali? Narayanan tried to remember. Finally he got. Pachayil temple........ he had heard some days earlier. He got up and stepped in to the dark waters of the river reflecting the moon. The moon shattered into golden pieces. Walking through the river he took a dip where water was sufficiently deep. After a while he was heading west wards towards the temple from where now Kathakali music was coming floating with the wind.

One afternoon children were engaged in a game called "feeding the buffalo with chicken". There were two pairs of young buffaloes in the shed. During the non agricultural season when there was no work for them, ayurvedic medicines crushed with chicken meat was given to them for vigor and vitality. The buffaloes will resist eating it to the hilt, shaking their heads violently: Ramakrishnan, Ponnambalan and Narayanan holding them by their horns and reigns, will forcefully push it down their pharynx. Enacting this incident was the game. "Medicine” was fried snacks and sweetmeats. Kunhukuttan Ammavan took up the role of the buffalo. He, though discreetly happy to eat the snacks, will pretended to resist, shaking head as one of the boys will hold him tight and the other will push the "medicine" in to his mouth. The game will go on till Grand Mother scolded the children and put an end to the supply of the snacks.

As the game was in progress at Kulappura, Narayanan came staggering from the farm. He held his hand to his chest. He came inside Kulappura and straight away laid down on the floor. He was sweating profusely and his body language showed that he was in severe pain.

That was the first time shadow of death fell on Narayanan. Myocardial infarction..... He never managed to move out of that shadow...........

Again summer came and Ariyanippadam got dried up. Then rains poured down, paddy was sown, seeds sprouted, saplings were transplanted, paddy had grown, yielded, harvested, pathayam filled.....The saga of never ending cycles of nature continued......

The farmer is dead; Long live the farmer........